Chapter 279: The “Wooden” People

After leaving the “Chang Haoke” Inn, Gu Ning’an continued northward toward Northern Huangtian.

Along the way, he heard the same news from countless people—echoing what the young News Teller had told him.

While there were minor variations in the details, they all revolved around one central theme—Great Wu had descended into complete chaos!

The death of the Second Prince had done nothing to quell the Third and Fifth Princes’ insatiable thirst for the throne. They were resorting to every means possible—amassing wealth, winning over supporters, and attempting to gather more “cards” into their hands.

And as a result, the people of Great Wu were suffering even more.

In just ten days of travel, Gu Ning’an witnessed the price of a white steamed bun skyrocketing from eight copper coins to fifty copper coins apiece!

Even coarse cornbread, once barely edible, was now selling for twenty copper coins each.

This forced countless people to abandon their homes, leaving behind the places where they had spent their entire lives.

The soaring cost of living had made survival impossible.

They could only gather their belongings, clutch onto incomplete geography maps, and desperately seek a place where prices were still low enough to stay alive.

As if mirroring Great Wu’s turmoil, the sky over the land was perpetually gray.

Not the kind of gray that signals rain, but one that felt shrouded in ominous gloom, like the breath of death lingering over the nation.

It was as if even the heavens were foretelling Great Wu’s bleak and uncertain future.

Pulling his gaze away from the sky, Gu Ning’an quickened his pace toward a nearby county town, where traces of human habitation could be seen.

From a distance, he could make out three large characters hanging on the gray walls—”Tianshui County.”

At the city gate, only a single soldier stood guard. His official robe was filthy, his posture lazy as he leaned against the gate, cradling a long saber in his arms. His eyelids drooped, hovering between sleep and wakefulness.

Even as Gu Ning’an walked past him, the guard did not move an inch, remaining motionless against the wall.

It was only when Gu Ning’an was about to vanish beyond the gate that the soldier yawned and muttered, “If you don’t want to die, take a detour…”

His voice was neither loud nor soft, but muffled from the yawn, making it sound almost indistinct.

However, it was clear enough for Gu Ning’an to hear.

He turned back, glanced at the city guard, and clasped his hands in thanks. “I appreciate the warning, Officer.”

The guard gave no response. He simply turned his head away and adjusted his posture, continuing his act of pretending to sleep.

Yet after a long while, the footsteps that should have faded away did not return.

“Hiss—!”

The guard’s eyes snapped open.

Looking inside the city gate, he found that the white-clad scholar had vanished without a trace.

“Heh… looks like I really stuck my nose where it didn’t belong again.” The guard chuckled at himself, then shrugged and lay down against the wall, arms folded behind his head.

As he closed his eyes, he clicked his tongue and muttered, “The world is hard… The world is hard…”

Meanwhile, inside Tianshui County, Gu Ning’an took in the sight before him.

Shops lined the streets on both sides, but most were shuttered. Even the ones that remained open had shopkeepers and clerks who looked lifeless—some simply leaned against the door, staring blankly into space, while others had dragged out grand armchairs and were lying at the entrance, seemingly indifferent to whether they had customers or not.

As for the street vendors, many stalls were still set up, yet their owners were nowhere to be seen. No one was calling out for business.

Venturing deeper into the county, Gu Ning’an finally understood the most striking thing about the people here.

They all shared one common expression—wooden.

There was no light in their eyes.

It was as if they had given up, moving like lifeless puppets, going through the motions of their daily tasks.

The Tiao Lang Clan street sweepers clutched their brooms loosely, absentmindedly sweeping here and there. Sometimes, after a couple of sweeps, they would simply freeze in place, lost in thought.

The pedestrians wandering the streets were scattered in small groups, aimless and slow—like walking corpses, drifting through the town without purpose.

Thud! Thud! Thud!

A series of rhythmic pounding sounds drew Gu Ning’an’s attention.

Following the noise, he spotted a noodle stall.

A middle-aged man stood behind the counter, continuously kneading and pounding a lump of dough.

After kneading the dough, the stall owner grabbed another lump, rolled it into a long strip, and swiftly stretched it with both hands.

Before long, thin, well-defined noodles took shape. The middle-aged man tossed them onto the floured surface of his workstation and then stood still, motionless—as if he had run out of power.

Gu Ning’an walked up to the stall and glanced around, but he didn’t see any sign displaying the prices.

“Stall owner, how much for a bowl of noodles?”

The middle-aged man blinked. Without a word, he grabbed the freshly pulled noodles and threw them into a nearby cast-iron pot of boiling water. Then, he left the stall, walked over to a wooden table in front of it, sat down, and finally muttered six words,

“Make it yourself. No charge.”

“This… well, thank you.” Gu Ning’an paused briefly before stepping behind the stall. He picked up a pair of slender chopsticks and stirred the bubbling noodles in the pot.

The stall was well-organized, with neatly arranged seasonings and clean bowls and utensils. Gu Ning’an casually sprinkled some chili powder and soy sauce into two empty bowls, then divided the cooked noodles between them. A quick stir, and two simple bowls of spicy soy sauce noodles were ready.

He picked up both bowls, walked over to the stall owner, and set one down in front of him with a smile.

“Try it.”

Without paying attention to whether the stall owner would eat or not, Gu Ning’an calmly started eating his own bowl of noodles.

His actions seemed to stir something in the stall owner’s dull eyes. The man glanced at the bowl of noodles in front of him, then at Gu Ning’an.

In the end, he picked up his chopsticks and started slurping up the soy sauce-coated noodles in big mouthfuls.

The stall owner ate quickly, finishing the entire bowl in just a few bites. Setting down his chopsticks, he stared at Gu Ning’an for a moment before lowering his voice.

“Outsider, finish eating and leave quickly.”

“Oh? Why are you telling me to leave too?” Gu Ning’an smiled. “The officer at the city gate said the same thing.”

The middle-aged man opened his mouth as if to speak, but his gaze drifted toward the county office in the distance. The brief flicker of life in his eyes quickly dimmed again.

He didn’t answer. Instead, he simply picked up the empty bowls and returned to his stall, resuming his silent, wooden demeanor.

Suddenly—

The sound of a door opening echoed from the left side of the street.

Several men in official uniforms, with blade hanging at their waists, stepped out while yawning. Their steps were unsteady as they lazily strolled toward the noodle stall.

The once “wooden” stall owner immediately sprang into action the moment he saw them approaching.

With practiced hands, he began pulling noodles at a frantic pace.